


The Girl With Short Hair (VENT)

by KittenSneeze



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, References to Depression, Self-Hatred, Triggers, Unrequited Love, no im not okay, this is a huge big vent, vent - Freeform, yes im okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 14:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14334768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittenSneeze/pseuds/KittenSneeze
Summary: She loved him. So much.. But he’d never love her back. Because she was a girl with short hair.(A quick vent story)





	The Girl With Short Hair (VENT)

**Author's Note:**

> This a big vent in lue of recent life events. I'm okay, but I'm not okay. I don't know how to put into words specifically how I feel personally, but I managed to translate my heartbreak into a short story. Enjoy- or don't, it's not up to me to decide these things.

_She was in love with a boy, a fair-skinned one who was lean and thin, his brown doe eyes on a face with no blemishes, framed by feathery bangs and made perfect with his voice - a clear song that didn’t squawk or break when he sung, only carried beautiful melodies that flitted through the air on a cloud of grace. Yes, she was in love with this boy - but she knew it wasn’t her place to be. A young man of his physique and stature would never buy interest into someone who was constantly living in the shadows of one's more confident than her. She was one that stumbled over the simplest of greetings and was shaken by the briefest of interactions. When you broke through that veil of self-doubt and hatred, there was a funny, witty, and pretty young girl underneath. However, that meant nothing at all. You see, if it wasn’t for her short hair, she may have had a chance with him._  
  
Her hands grazed across the back of her head, snagging between the curls that now were as tight as ropes, the locks frazzled from the scissor-ends. Her small fingers were twisting her hair round and round, sparking even more frizz from the messy mop upon her head. It was a nervous habit she never broke, and around Alexander, it increased ten-fold. When he looked toward her, the breath caught in her throat and her heart skipped a beat, as if she was in some fairytale where she had found true love. It was only simple greetings and pleasant hello’s, but every moment he spent focused on her was a moment she wouldn’t trade for anything else in the entire world.  
  
But when alone, left to her thoughts, her mind swirled into a void of negativity and hatred. _Why’d you cut all your hair off? Guys will think you’re a boy! Why would they date you?! You’ll never get a guy if you only wear hoodies all day! Put on some makeup, that’ll attract a guy! You should probably lose some weight or else you’ll be fat, and nobody likes anyone who’s overweight._  
  
It’s all been heard. The insults, the criticisms, every word laced with venom that penetrated her heart and cut deeper into her soul. They were right though. Her fingers traced the shards of glass from where he fist penetrated, in front of her, a shattered mirror above a sink where water was running. The dull sound of rushing water was overpowered by the gut-wrenching breathless sobs that escaped her lips when she looked at her reflection. “He will never like me,” she cried with a voice that sounded like she was being gutted, “That boy has girls all over him, and he has no problem telling me all about his endeavors with them. If he had the slightest interest in me, he’d spare those details and actually focus on how they made me feel when he shared them.” Her hands grasped the faucet and cranked it to stop, her tears now hitting the pool of water stopped up by the drain.  
  
“How funny it be, my life is a tragedy akin to Les Miserables, where he is the Marius to my Epinoine.” Her laughter was dry. She knew the ridiculousness of that statement. But she truly was on her own, and he didn’t care. “If I had hair like the girls he dated, he could give me a try,” she hiccuped, fisting the sides of the porcelain bowl, “I’d treat him right, I’d appreciate him like nobody else who used him would, I would do anything for him because I lo-” she choked, craning her head down to hold back anymore tears, but what escaped instead was a scream that tore up her throat and burned the inside of her chest.  
  
Her legs buckled and she hit the tile of the bathroom floor with a defeated whimper, arms wrapping tightly around her knees as she scooted into a matted corner of the room, dully rocking herself back and forth.  
  
She loved him.  
  
So much..  
  
But he’d never love her back.  
  
**_Because she was a girl with short hair._**


End file.
